Red Night Ruckus
by Redentor
Summary: Red has a crush on the Lone Wanderer, one that she feels she needs to act on. When he finally drops into Big Town on his way through the Wasteland, what will her reaction be? Oneshot Lemon. Red/M!LW. Mentions Amata/M!LW. Rated M for a reason, if you don't know what Lemon means.


**Red Night Ruckus**

When Red had left Little Lamplight, like all children she had been full of cheerful optimism and plans for the future. A whole new world outside of the caverns, just waiting to be explored. She had fallen in love with the idea as soon as she first heard the stories that the other kids traded, about Big Town. She had never shared her optimism, everyone wanted to stay in Little Lamplight, and she thought that if she told someone of her hopes then they would think differently of her. But when her day finally came, a faint smile could be seen, her red lips stretching in cheery anticipation.

It had been foolish she concluded, to believe that Big Town would be the be all and end all, the Promised Land for all the ex-residents of Little Lamplight. Supermutants attacked daily, Raiders killed anyone that ventured too far from the confines of the inner walls, and Slavers….Red had not believed that anyone could be evil enough to sell another human life for the cost of an assault rifle. She soon learned the realities of the Wasteland, that no-one would help the teenagers of Big Town. No-one cared for them as much as they did for each other. They were alone in this scorched and desolate world.

Then he came….

The Lone Wanderer.

Red had a radio that she listen to, hidden away in the back of her clinic so it wouldn't get damaged by a stray bullet or a hulking Supermutant not smart enough to recognise its value. That was where she and the rest of Big Town first learned of that Urban Legend, that Messiah of the Wastes. GNR and Three Dog took an interest in the Wanderer due to his unique circumstances, and with every broadcast his legend grew. Everyone in Big Town knew the story, a kid from the vault looking for his father. Just a scared, lost, frightened child looking for his parent. It struck a chord with all the teenagers, a common ground that they did not share with Herbert "Daring" Dashwood, or his ghoul manservant Argyle. Then more broadcasts started coming in.

The Wanderer disarmed the bomb in Megaton, fixed GNR's radio antenna when it got damaged, destroyed Raven Rock and fixed the Purifier. He saved Reilly's Rangers in downtown DC, saved Bryan Wilks in Greyditch and more recently, helped the town of Arafu with its gang problem. That last broadcast had caught the residents of Big Town unawares. The Lone Wanderer had last been sighted not seven miles away in Arafu. Red dared to hope that the hero of the Wasteland would come there, to Big Town. That he would solve their problems like he had with so many others.

That was the night that Red had been kidnapped by Supermutants, her and Shorty. Dragged away in the middle of the night amidst the staccato sound of gunfire. Dusty, Kimba and Pappy tried their best to follow, but the Mutants shot Timebomb as he rushed after them. All three stopped to help.

And that was when he came. The next night, Red had been lying on the floor of her cell silently crying when the sound of gunfire echoed through the building. Mutants ran in and out of the shadows, trying to find and corner the assailant. It was no good, whoever he was he ghosted in and out of the rooms, taking them one by one until they all lay dead or dying on the floor. Red waited for a minute as the smell of cordite wafted to her nose. The gunfire had stopped. A figure suddenly appeared as if by magic at her cell door. A tattered duster, a red baseball cap and Tortoiseshell glasses. His hair was short and black, a rough beard giving him the look of a typical rugged waster. But the Chinese Assault Rifle in his hands spoke volumes to Red. The Wanderer used a Chinese Assault Rifle, and he always wore a red cap.

"I told your friend Shorty to leg it, but he said he'd wait for you outside. You go to him and get back to Big Town. I'll meet you back there, okay?"

He hadn't even bothered to introduce himself, he just waltzed in and unlocked the cell door with a screwdriver and a bobby pin. She stared at him as he opened the door, caught up in the moment. This was the Lone Wanderer, the boy she had heard so much about on the radio. He looked older than she had imagined him to be. "Hey kid, I told you to get the fuck outta' here. I'm staying to clear out the rest of the station, now go!"

And with that he had dismissed her, sent her and Shorty packing back to Big Town. He must have cleared out the old Germantown station well, because the mutants never bothered them again. It turned out that the Wanderer had come to Big Town straight after he had been to Arafu, escorting Sticky from Little Lamplight. Everyone was overjoyed to see an old face, or rather a slightly younger face added to their swiftly dwindling ranks. Red however, retreated inside herself to mull over her first encounter with the Wanderer.

Sticky had told them that the Wanderer had offered to take him to Big Town for a reward, but once they had arrived after the stop-off in Arafu, and discovered that Red (who Sticky had told the Wanderer was his old girlfriend who would pay him the caps he owed) had been kidnapped they were forced to renegotiate the bargain. Pausing only to stabilise Timebomb the Wanderer had rushed off to Germantown to rescue them. And that was where it got disjoined. He hadn't returned to claim a reward from either Red, Shorty or Sticky. He just walked off, and a week later GNR broadcast the destruction of Paradise Falls.

Now Red understood. The Wanderer might not be the most civil person alive, and he had a greedy streak that made him barter for caps at the most inappropriate of moments, but he was motivated by a desire to help. He truly was a friend to all, even without the promise of caps to compensate him for the trouble. That was why Red, against her better judgement and the offhand remarks of Kimba and Bittercup, began entertaining thoughts of what might happen if she ever saw her Knight in Shining Vault Suit again. Yes, Her Knight, not anyone else's. She did not consider the possibility that he might already be involved with someone else, she just wanted to know what it would be like to be with him, even if it was just for a moment. She knew that it was the worst kind of blind hero worship, but she couldn't care less.

Then, finally, after more sleepless nights than she couldn't have realistically survived if she hadn't been running on pure unadulterated desire and maybe a few doses of Med-x, she got her chance. He walked across the rickety bridge into Big Town, startling Dusty who had been on watch as always. They rushed out of the buildings at the sound of gunfire to find Dusty laughing awkwardly, and the Wanderer smirking as he held Dusty's rifle gently to the side, a hand held up in a gesture of peace. He was mobbed by everyone, hands reaching out to shake his, an awkward hug from Kimba and Shorty. Sticky and Timebomb offered him small stashes of caps that they had hidden away on the off-chance that they would finally get to pay him back. The Wanderer had noticed immediately that the residents of Big Town were interested in how he would handle the offer, and he grimaced slightly as he refused. After that Red had advised everyone to get back to whatever they had been doing so that she and the Wanderer could discuss business in the clinic.

He, presumably assuming that she was offering him a place to sleep for the night and maybe some caps to make up for his public display of generosity, followed. They entered the clinic and he stripped off his duster and baseball cap, sitting in the one free chair without her offering. Red didn't mind though, he could take as many liberties as he wanted to with her. One, he deserved it, and two, she knew that his tendency to take liberties might prove her most useful aid in getting him to climb into bed with her. Now that they were together in the clinic, alone, she felt the familiar tingling's of doubt. Should she go through with this? He was the Lone Wanderer after all, what if someone found out, or he rejected her? Could she live with all the possible outcomes of this….this? The sight of the Wanderer's black T-Shirt however, removed all sexually related thoughts from her head. "You're hurt," Red said as her smile waned.

"Yep," he replied, nodding as he fingered the bandage around his shoulder, ".32 calibre bullet, got plugged by a Raider who thought he could make a name for himself. Think you could have a look at it. I can't see it too well."

Sexual thoughts returned again in full force. Take a look at the Wanderer shirtless, yes please! But her reservations had also returned. "You're a better doctor than me, you fixed up Timebomb better than I ever could." It was a lame excuse, and she knew it. "As I said, I can't get a good look at it. If you think you're likely to cut off my arm by accident, then don't pick up a knife. Just tell me what you see." He had pulled a bottle of whisky from his duster pocket, obviously for himself while she prodded around with his shoulder. Sexual thoughts piped up at that moment and told her that if she drank some of that liquid, then Reservations wouldn't get in the way of their business with the Wanderer. Reservations told her not to. Red stood there looking dumbly at the bottle while her inner self warred inside her head.

"You want some of this?" The Wanderers voice drew her out of her thoughts. "What?" She practically squeaked, as he held out the bottle. "You were staring at it, you want some?" That practically made up her mind for her. It would be rude to refuse now that he had offered, "Yes please." The whisky was terrible, but at least it took the edge of her inhibitions. Sexual thoughts reared its ugly head again, and directed her mouth to start spewing out words that she knew she might regret. "Take off your shirt then, I'll have a look at you."

The Wanderer didn't pick up the inflections in her voice that denoted nervousness, or maybe he did not attribute it to an underlying sexual tension. He pulled of the T-Shirt and waited for her to do her work. She handed the bottle back and watched as he took a long swig. Getting in closer she leaned in and probed the wound. It was a blackish red, small and ugly. She had seen so many wounds like this after mutant attacks, and she automatically probed the back of his shoulder as well. An exit wound, no lumps to denote fragments of the bullet still stuck it there. His skin was distractingly warm, and she could smell him. Whisky and cigarettes, like some of the traders who came through on occasion.

"Does it feel like there are fragments still in there?" She asked for the sake of completeness, as she was almost certain that there wasn't. "Nope, just like a normal bullet hole. Infection?"

She shook her head in the negative, "No, the skin is still firm around the wound, and the inflammation is minor. Is it impeding movement at all, do you need a stimpack?"

It wouldn't do for the Wanderer to get killed because he couldn't lift his shoulder right. She grinned slightly at her own presence of mind. She could still concentrate even with the Wanderer shirtless before her. He was muscled like defined, like one of the mercenaries or the Brotherhood soldiers that she sometimes patched up. She did a mental fist pump.

"No, I have my own." She nodded, and waited for him to say something more. Then she realised that he was waiting for her to continue the conversation. She blushed slightly from her own nerves, and coughed. "Umm…I never did thank you for saving Shorty and Timebomb. Or getting Sticky here safely. Or saving us from the mutants and slavers."

She ran over the last few lines in her head, and grinned suddenly. "Yeah, you've done quite a lot for all of us here in Big Town."

He smiled slightly, "It's my job. Or at least it makes good radio." He chuckled and her smile widened. That's it, you've got him laughing, now do it. She still didn't have the courage however, and the whisky bottle began to look increasingly inviting. She motioned to it, glad that her skin hid the blush that was blooming on her cheeks. "May I?"

He nodded, "Sure, help yourself. I've got a fridge full of the stuff back in Megaton."

She took a longer draught than she had before and coughed as it joined the first in her stomach. "What I mean is," she continued, handing back the bottle, "is that you've done so much for us….for me...and I haven't been able to thank you properly." She took a deep breath and steadied herself. Moment of truth.

She stepped forward, just far enough that his legs stretched out on either side of hers, and she was looking straight down at him. She could just make out his eyes behind the tortoiseshells slightly tinted lenses, and they had widened in realisation. Even sitting down his height was impressive to her. Though he was only marginally taller than a normal man, her short stature meant that his head reached her upper chest at that moment. He looked for a second like a deer staring into the headlights. Two headlights, to be precise.

He coughed awkwardly, "I…"

He seemed unable to continue, but she could tell that his discomfort was not due to his dislike of her, or her looks. This was the same discomfort that she felt around him, if slightly different. He was looking at her in a different light, and was embarrassed by his own reaction. "I've never done this before," Red confessed, trying to put him at ease by sharing her own doubts regarding the situation. Her hands tentatively sought out his shoulders. She dared not go any higher or and lower. The shoulders seemed like safe ground. "Have you?"

He nodded, "Once."

"Do you want to…now? With me?"

There it was, clear as crystal and out in the open. What happened now was up to him. She bit her bottom lip hopefully, unknowingly sending shivers up the Wanderers spine. He never had a chance.

"Yeah."

Red paused for a moment, then his words registered. She was so happy that he had said yes, and sufficiently drunk even after two mouthfuls of whisky that she grasped his face and brought him into a kiss. She had only kissed one person, Sticky back when they were in Little Lamplight. Back before her tenth birthday and the chaos that ensued. This was much better than her first. Now she understood the meaning behind it. Passion, desire, love. It meant something more to her now than it had back then. His hands snaked around her and she found herself sitting on his lap, straddling him. His arm pulled her in close, moulding themselves together as his tongue requested entrance.

His was running on instinct, and she was happy to follow his lead. Her mouth opened slightly against his to let him in, and she tasted the whisky once again. Lower down, something was bubbling up, speered by both the stimulation and the alcohol. She moaned into his mouth, letting out some of the pressure building in her chest. But the warmth was still there, both pleasurable and maddening at the same time. He broke away for air, and stared her in the eyes. Slowly, he took off his glasses and tossed them into a corner. His eyes where brown and green, and odd combination. His hand stroked her cheek as he took a deep breath. His beard left scratchy trails around her mouth, and she smiled as his hand brushed the ticklish feeling away. His fingers brushed her lip, and he replayed the moment when she bit it in his head. He flinched as she grasped his hand in hers. He hadn't even noticed her move it. She guided one of his fingers to her mouth and kissed it, staring him in the eye. They were both exploring unknown territory. Her because she wanted him to want her, and he, because he wanted to be perceived as brave by Red.

She took the digit into her mouth up to the first joint, running her tongue over the pad. He was staring, enraptured at her. She felt a swell of pride in her chest, and she smiled at him past his finger. His heart skipped a beat. His arm tightened again around her waist and he pulled his hand away, replacing it with his mouth.

His now liberated hand snaked under her and lifted her with him as he stood up. When he had done this with Amata she had expressed interest in doing it against a wall, and he had to admit he was taken with the idea. Of course now that Amata had kicked him out of the Vault, his interest in her had taken a hit. Now that Red was practically koala hugging him, her legs having encircled his waist upon his standing up, Amata could go pound sand. He walked to the nearest available free stretch of wall and pressed Red's back to it. She broke the kiss and looked at him. "Trust me, Red?"

She nodded, and keeping one arm under her arse, he wormed a hand between their two bodies and began to unzip Red's jumpsuit. Her hands went from around his neck to the wall, bracing herself so he could see. He licked his lips and swallowed. She was beautiful, in an exotic kind of way. Her skin was chocolate brown, lighter than her face which was exposed to the elements. He didn't dare bring himself to describe her curves, even internally. He didn't trust himself. Contemplating something like this wasn't for men like him. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to enjoy this, and make sure she enjoyed it too.

The zip only reached to just below her belly button, and he wasn't sure if she would take offense to him skipping right to the sex part without some foreplay in-between. Amata certainly liked the foreplay, and had made that first on her list of things to experience with him. Taking one look at the two "headlights" that he had been staring at earlier however, and he couldn't help himself. Hell, foreplay defiantly wasn't a waste of time anyway. His buried his face in her chest and layered the skin in kisses. Once or twice, when his mouth past over a spot he knew to be sensitive, his tongue contributed.

Red gasped, and moaned above him, noticing with curiosity how the skin he was pressed up against was so much hotter than the rest of her. A noticeable temperature difference. No, more than noticeable, it was clearly defined. Almost as warm as the pressure building up in her groin. She was almost certain that he could feel the wet spot there. She had purposefully left her bra off and her panties on. The only bra she had didn't look very good on her, and her jumpsuit did an acceptable job of holding everything in place. Even so she sometimes caught Sticky looking.

Suddenly she felt his hands on her shoulders, pushing her jumpsuit down her arms and off until it pooled around her waist. She gasped involuntarily, and his head shot up. His eyes caught hers, to make sure that he wasn't going too far. He saw only longing in her, hidden behind a haze of pleasure in her half lidded eyes. His heart was beating quickly he thought, more so than usual. He let unhooked her legs, eyes still glued to hers, and let them find purchase on the ground. The jumpsuit fell off her, and she felt the chill as the air hit her bare skin. His eyes left hers and trailed down her body. Her eyes went to the front of his pants, and she was gratified to see a bulge. She was having the same effect on him that he was having on her.

She had a sudden image of how she would like this to go, and decided that she would act on it. Her hand found the zip on the front of his pants and she smiled at the look on his face. "You unzipped me, this is fair."

He nodded, and she knew that they were both too far gone to refuse anything they asked of each other. She slid the zip downwards and reached in. She found what she was looking for immediately, it practically burst from the front of his pants once an escape was provided. She grasped it in her hand and watched his face contort in a mixture of ecstasy and anticipation. He was trying to hide it though, he was embarrassed again. Her cheeks were flaming again as well, as soon as she realised just how intimate this had gotten. It didn't stop her from stroking it, and watching in fascination as his face contorted again. Then a wicked thought flitted into her brain. She used her free hand to pull down her last shred of clothing and guided him to the opening. They both gasped, but she didn't allow him inside.

"Tell me your name."

He opened his eyes and stared at her, his expression unchanged. "Chance, its short for Chauncey."

Chauncey….if they weren't about to have sex she would have asked about it, but she wanted to do this. "Be gentle," she whispered, and braced herself as his arms once again encircled her and lifted her into the air. She felt the first tentative thrust, as he tried to find her hymen. Then he did, and he paused, judging depths. She moaned and he lowered her a fraction. He was now pressing against it, ready to deflower the girl who clung to him. Then he thrust and it was done. She grunted and squashed herself against his muscled chest. The pain wasn't as bad as she had been bracing for.

He had done this before she remembered, and he was a medical practitioner like his father. Her hands left his back and she leant back, affording him a perfect view of her chest as a kind of reward. She smiled at him, and say the glisten of sweet on his chest and forehead. His hands grasped her hips. And he slid in and out. Her smile vanished, replaced by a kind of tortured ecstasy, much like his expression. "Yes," she whispered, "yes."

He answered by increasing his pace, wanting to tempt more sounds from between her red lips. "Ohh, Chance."

The speed increased each time she made a sound, be it a moan or an intelligible word. She moaned again and relished the thrust that come next. "Ohh!"

She braced her arms behind her and began softly chanting her approval. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

Liquid dripped from their bodies, some of it sweet, some of it more sexual in nature. The room was beginning to smell like it, of him and her, intermingled. She was already feeling a new kind of pressure, what she imagined a grenade felt like before it went off. She still had the presence of mind not to shout too loudly, in case someone heard them from outside. "I'm so close, so close! Faster!"

He complied, growling like a dog as he thrust upwards, hitting her at a different angle. Suddenly it was like he had pierced her. The pressure was released in a wave of frenzied ecstasy and she opened her mouth in a soundless scream. Only a solitary, "Uhh," escaped. Her physical reaction was more pronounced. She clamped around the Wanderer like a vice, and every muscle in her body tensed. He thrust into her a few more times, eyes never leaving her face, until he too tensed and went off like a frag mine. He didn't make any sound, but his reaction was no less than his partners. His legs felt weak, but he locked them in place and leaned forwards, laying his forehead onto the wall, his cheek pressed against hers.

After a minute or so, as they both breathed in the air like they had never tasted anything like it before in their entire lives, their eyes met, and they smiled. Reaching up, he pulled her red bandana off and clutched it in his hand.

He stared at it for a second then put it to his nose and inhaled deeply. "Can I keep this?"

She grinned, for she could deny him nothing. "Yeah, sure."

He smiled, and motioned towards his hat which rested upon the clinics table, trusting her legs and arms to keep her in place between him and the wall. "You can have my cap if you want."

Her grin widened, "Yeah, I'd like that."

He stared at her, and suddenly she remembered something. Craning her neck she spotted his glasses in the corner and grimaced. "Your glasses are broken."

He laughed, "Fuck 'em, it was only for the look of the thing anyway." He kissed her, and she laughed around his lips. Maybe the world wasn't so bad outside of Little Lamplight after all.

A/N: I never thought I would write a lemon oneshot. It just seemed like such a clichéd thing to do. But then on a replay of Fallout 3 I saved Timebomb and spoke to Red. Her reaction to me fixing her friend up spoke to me I guess, because an hour later, this was sitting before me in Microsoft Word. What a wonderful thing spontaneous inspiration is.


End file.
